For Emcee

[onceaviking]

Once they are inside and the door is closed, Eric retrieves a book from his desk and settles down on the bed. Ignoring Emcee.

He might be trying to give him space? It's hard to tell.

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[i_am_your_host]

Emcee leaves his coat on a chair and his boots beside it. As he crosses the room to the bathroom, he expects Eric to be watching him, but he isn't. It's a little unusual. But he should probably appreciate the non-attention for the moment, as he steps into a hot shower that he can enjoy by himself.

And there are no distractions as he scrubs himself clean of real and imaginary filth. In all his years, he's never felt dirtier or more used. He wonders what the man would have done to him had he told him that he was Jewish. Now there is some hypocrisy. Emcee almost laughs.

He has to laugh.

Crying in the shower has become too much of a habit.


Eventually he emerges from the steam-filled bathroom, skin fresh and clean and pink with warmth. His damp hair hangs over his brow, his face is bare of makeup.

[onceaviking]

Eric is still on the bed. Reading.
It's a dog-eared paperback, entitled Drottningens juvelsmycke.

He looks up at scent of warm, clean skin.

[i_am_your_host]

"What are you reading?"

Emcee approaches the bed on silent bare feet, and he demurely sits down facing Eric, tucking one leg underneath himself.

[onceaviking]

"It's called The Queen's Diadem," he replies. "You'd like it. It's filled with subterfuge, lavish ballet performances, and a beautiful creature pursued by men and women alike."

A shrug.

"It's entertaining."

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee smiles a little, partly amused that Eric would enjoy reading something like that.

"I'll have to ask Bar for a translation, then."

He smirks as a thought comes to him.

"Or you could teach me Swedish. Is it very difficult?"

[onceaviking]

He snorts.

"It took me forever to learn Pam," he says. "But you seem to have an ear for it. So -" he closes the book and learns forward a little. "Tintomara! två ting äro hvita. Oskuld och Arsenik."

A questioning eyebrow.
Your best guess, if you please, Emcee.

[i_am_your_host]

His eyes widen a little and he chuckles, shaking his head.

"I-- have no idea what any of that means, except I think there is someone's name in there, and also possibly arsenic."

[onceaviking]

"Two things are white," Eric recites. "Innocence and arsenic."

[i_am_your_host]

"Oskuld och Arsenik," he repeats with a tic of his head. "That is true. And very colorful, so to speak."

[onceaviking]

"It is," Eric agrees. And then he says, a little abruptly, "Let's take a look at your marks, hmm?"

[i_am_your_host]

He shifts closer to him, pressing his leg against Eric's.

And he holds out a wrist, deliberately upturned. The finger-shaped bruises are darker now, mottled red and brown.

"I'd like to get rid of them before we...do anything else," he says quietly. "Please."

[onceaviking]

Eric lets his fangs down, pulling his upper lip back.
Then he bites down on the pad of his thumb, as he takes hold of Emcee's wrist with his other hand.

He smears the marks on his wrist. "You might need to drink as well. If you want them truly gone," he murmurs.

[i_am_your_host]

Eric's blood is cool and slick on his skin, dark red against the paleness of it. Underneath the smears the bruises start to fade.

"May I?" he asks, dipping his head and raising his eyes to him.

[onceaviking]

Eric holds up his hand, the thumb slick with smeared blood.


He'll let him drink, perhaps even a little more than he'd normally be willing to.

He can smell his distress.

[i_am_your_host]

It's all he wants. To be rid of every trace.

He brings Eric's thumb to his lips, and gratefully sucks at the blood oozing from the wound. He closes his eyes, sweeping his tongue over Eric's cold, smooth skin, swallowing the sweet-salty taste. The blood works almost immediately, driving away the stiffness in his neck, as the bruises disappear completely.

He feels much better.

Most of all, he feels relieved.

The wound has closed and the blood has stopped flowing. Emcee closes his mouth around Eric's thumb and coils his tongue around it, hot and slick. And he pulls back slowly, slowly slipping his thumb from between his lips.

[onceaviking]

Eric is watching, looking partly amused and partly hungry.

"Are you being suggestive?" he asks.

[i_am_your_host]

"Aren't I always being suggestive, darling?" he purrs, as he leans forward and slides his hand up Eric's thigh.

[onceaviking]

"Are you being grateful as well?" Eric asks with a small smile, parting his thighs a little.

He's still dressed.

[i_am_your_host]

His eyelids droop and flutter as his whole body flushes warm.

"Yes," he murmurs. "Will you let me show you how grateful I am?"

[onceaviking]

Eric's lips twitch a little.

"I could be persuaded," he murmurs, letting his paperback drop.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee's hands converge on the fly of Eric's jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping it with quick and familiar ease. He then reaches in with soft, warm fingers to caress his cock, as his heavy gaze shifts to watch his lips.

[onceaviking]

He's got very warm fingers.
He likes that.

Eric lets his eyes drift shut as his lips part a little.
He looks less dangerous like that.

Though he may have missed a bit of blood here and there.

[i_am_your_host]

Emcee also has a very warm tongue, as he dips his head and adds slick strokes to those of his fingers, sometimes quick and light, sometimes long and thorough. And when he's done teasing, he takes him into his mouth, lips easily sliding halfway up Eric's shaft. Eric is cool and hard against his tongue, and he hums a breathy sigh.

[onceaviking]

The muscles in his thigh bunch up.

It seems like he likes this.
It sounds that way too, even if the sound is small and soft and gone in a second.

[i_am_your_host]

He curls his free hand around his thigh, leaning on it as he begins to bob his head up and down. He takes him in deep, as deeply as his throat allows, and pulls back slow, his tongue rippling against his solid flesh.

It may be part of paying his debt, but he's going to enjoy it, too.